


Undeniably Red

by moon_star



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Broken Stiles, Comfort, Comforting Derek, M/M, and this happened, fluffy fluff, i heard a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 00:31:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_star/pseuds/moon_star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Stiles' mother's death anniversary and Derek provides comfort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undeniably Red

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this last night when I couldn't sleep and revised it this morning and I felt it was good enough to publish, so here it is.
> 
> Also, I think I don't need to say it, but I will: any and all mistakes are mine, because I do not have a beta, so if you run onto a mistake, please do feel free to point it out.
> 
> Enjoy :)

“You’re the smell before the rain; you’re the blood flowing in my veins.”

- _The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot_ , Brand New

 

“Derek,” whispered Stiles on his neck.

Derek had him hugged in a tight bearish hug, one of his arms around Stiles’ lower back and the other one around his shoulders, his right leg caught between his legs.

“Yes?” whispered Derek back as he ran his nose at the top of Stiles’ forehead right on his hairline.

It was the night of Stiles’ mother’s death anniversary and he had refused to leave his room all day long.  He wanted to avoid the Sheriff, who was mourning the day away, as was Stiles, but privately in his office at the police station.

Earlier that night, at the weekly, lately semi-weekly, pack meeting, Scott had informed Derek that Stiles would not be attending said meeting because _of reasons._

Derek knew what those reasons were, who the reason was, but he just nodded and proceeded with the meeting, informing the betas, the hunter, and the strong scientist, that he had caught Peter’s scent just at the edge of town the other day.

“It goes without say that you are not to be roaming the streets or the forest alone.  You are to protect each other.  The likelihood of him attacking any of you is very minimal so long as you stay together as a pack.  That means that, although I admire your ability and willingness to protect your mates and your friends and to defend yourselves, I under no circumstance want you to go and track his scent and try to take him out – ”

“Because he’s your uncle?” had interrupted Jackson from the furthest part of the house where he sat on a wooden chair with Lydia on his lap.

“No.  Because he is dangerous.  Because he is an older, experienced beta.  Because he could _kill_ you in the blink of an eye if you face him alone.  And because, I know you don’t want to die; _I_ don’t want you to die.  That’s why.”

Jackson snorted and Lydia hit him on the back of his head, but he agreed with a sarcastic, ‘whatever.’

As soon as the meeting was over, Derek ran to Stiles’ house, unaware, unwillingly, and utterly undeniably because he didn’t want Stiles to be alone.

And because Derek thought that maybe Stiles needed someone to keep him company.  That maybe he needed someone to comfort him.  That perhaps he needed someone to wipe his falling tears. 

Derek had thought that maybe Stiles would need him to hold him, to keep him, to love him.

He climbed onto Stiles’ roof in less than five seconds; lifted up his window and stepped into his room and closed the window as soon as he was inside.  It was cold and windy and the last thing he wanted, the last thing Stiles needed, was to feel the coldness and loneliness of the outside.

The lights were turned off except for the blinking light coming from his charging laptop on his desk.  And Stiles was curled up into a ball on the ground blocking the entrance to his door.

His eyes were glistening with tears and he was taking in sharp breaths of air as he shivered and made small chocking whining sounds.

Derek rushed to him and let his body fall slowly down to the ground making the minimal amount of noise as so to not startle him.  It was a long minute before his face faced Stiles’.

“Stiles, are you ok? Are you hurt?” asked Derek in a small whisper.

“Ddd-rrekk, I,-” he attempted to talk but between his staggering breaths and shivers, he wasn’t even able to make full words.

“It’s ok. Shhh.  It’s ok, Stiles,” Derek cooed as he stroked Stiles’ face lightly with the tip of his fingers and wiped away a cold tear.  “We need to get you up… Can you get up?”

In between shivers, Stiles shook his head no. 

Derek had known Stiles for over a year now, and he knew for a fact that he was a brave boy; unafraid of the beasts that rose to live and raged under the influence of the moon.  He was unchallenged by the monsters that threatened his live or the lives of his loved ones – especially of the ones that threatened the lives of his loved ones.

But seeing him on the ground, broken, cold and extremely fragile, it reminded Derek that Stiles was just a boy.  A boy who fought against the wolves – the monsters – yet ran with them at the same time in an almost matching pace; but he was a very breakable boy nonetheless.

Derek swiftly got up and carefully lifted Stiles up propping his head with his hand before fully lifting him up, his tears had formed a small puddle on the carpet.  Derek hooked both of Stiles’ hands around his neck and buried his face under his chin.

“I-I-I paani-ck-ed,” murmured Stiles in between sobs and Derek ran his chin across his forehead.

“It’s ok; you’re ok,” Derek whispered into his hair.

“Bbb-but, it’s not o-k,” chocked stiles in between muffled breaths digging his nails onto Derek’s neck.

“No, but it will be; you will be.”

Stiles nodded into Derek’s neck tightening his hold.

“Did you eat?” Derek asked him as he reached the twin sized bed.

Stiles unhooked his hands and shook his head as he leaned away from his neck, “No.”

Derek laid Stiles gently on his bed and propped his head with two pillows before pulling the covers over him.

“Tuck – ing me in?” Stiles asked in a small whisper and a faint smile as a tear fell down his cheek and on to the pillow.  His breathing was coming back to normal and he was no longer shivering.

Derek sat on Stiles’ bed and ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair down his temple and under his eye where another tear was beginning to fall.  Stiles reached from under the covers and placed his still cold hand on Derek’s and held it tight.

Derek smiled at Stiles and tighten his hand around his hand before he spoke, “I’m gonna go get you something to eat, ok?  I’ll be right back,” he said as he begin to get up, but Stiles held on to his hand tighter.

“Don’t go, Derek” he whispered.  “Don’t leave… I –” he trailed off closing his eyes.

“I’m just going to get you some food; I’ll be right back… I don’t want you to grow weak, let alone starve,” Derek said. Saying the words, hurt more than he thought they would.

“In a minute… I –, uh, I just… –I just want to stay here for a bit more, with you… if, uh, is that ok? Will that be ok?”  Stiles asked his forehead creasing and his bottom lip quivered with anticipation.  He looked weak, exhausted, and slightly paler.

“Of course, Stiles, whatever you need,” Derek affirmed him nodding.

And with that, Stiles tugged at Derek pulling him down to his bed, “Lay,” he whispered and Derek did just that.  “Open your arms,” he ordered and Derek conceded instantly.  Stiles pulled himself on to Derek’s body burying his head below his chin and Derek automatically wrapped his arms around him.

They stayed like that for a while, Stiles crying restless into Derek’s neck and chest and Derek wrapping his arms around Stiles wanting to protect him, as much as he wanted to shield him away from the pain of loss, he knew he couldn’t.  Derek rubbed Stiles’ back in silence, afraid to say something, and really he didn’t know what to say.  When Derek had lost his family, Derek had Laura and she had held him during the nights when he was not able to sleep, but she never said anything, aside from the occasional comforting whispers, “It’s ok, Derek, it’s ok.”  “Let it all out, Derek.” and the one he detested most and really brought him no comfort what so ever, “It wasn’t your fault Derek; it’s not your fault.”  But aside from that, all she did was rub Derek’s back until he fell asleep.

And so Derek figured that the smartest thing to do, the best thing he could do for Stiles, was comfort him in silence, like Laura had done for him.

And after several tortured moments of hearing Stiles cry, he begin to calm down and his tears came to a stop as his breath and heartbeat fell back to its normal rhythm.  And he was quiet, he wasn’t asleep yet, but Derek was sure unconsciousness was pulling him in.

“Derek,” he whispered onto the hollow of Derek’s neck, stubbornly not letting sleep comfort him.

“Yes?” asked Derek rubbing Stiles’ upper back, but Stiles didn’t respond right away.

“Death… ” he whispered after a while surprising Derek, who stiffened besides Stiles who let the word sink into the stillness of the bedroom.  “It’s a funny thing, isn’t it?”

Derek pulled him closer.

“And ruthless.”

Derek closed his eyes and pressed his lips lightly to Stiles’ forehead.

“And just so _unfair._ ”

Derek took in a deep breath tightening his arms tighter around Stiles and parted his lips to say something, what though? He didn’t know.  So he closed them again and clenched his jaw.

“And people become selfless and protective.”

Derek didn’t know what to do, what to say, and he suddenly felt like a coward because this was something that he too couldn’t yet handle.

“When she got sick, when she noticed it, when she found out, she tried to hide it from me, from us… and she managed to hide it from me for six months all the while faking to be ok.  Faking to be healthy, just so that I wouldn’t notice, so that I could hang out with Scott, so that I could continue to grow as a normal third grader –”

“Stiles –” Derek interrupted because he could feel where this was leading up to.

“She took me to my therapies,” continued Stiles ignoring Derek.  “Helped me with my homework every night.  Helped me memorize the fifty states and capitals along with their corresponding governor; she helped me win the spelling bee by going through at least twenty five words from the dictionary _every single night._ And every day without fail, she would teach me different ways to help me focus, to help me learn, that were suppose to make growing up with ADHD easier, tolerable...”

Stiles inhaled a deep breath, as did Derek suddenly thinking of his mother and the way she had told him that he was just a teenager; he still didn’t know much about life, let alone love.  He had shouted, screamed – had even _growled_ – as he told her, ‘he knew what love was, thank you very much.  He didn’t need her advice moreover, he didn’t want it.’  He had stormed out of the house and she called his name several times, but he didn’t turn back.  They had fought or so he had thought, but after he came back from school his mother acted the same as before he had left that day.  She prepared fruit and cheese for him to eat as an after school snack and then fed him dinner. She had tried her hardest not to look his way, but Derek saw her and she wore a slight look of hurt, just a bit barely visible; embarrassment and shame was more prominent in her face than anything else.  His mother had even snuck up into his room after dinner to kiss him good night as she pretended she didn’t know Derek was pretending to sleep. 

And the next day, she was gone. 

Derek closed his eyes.  He lived with the overpowering feeling of guilt every single day; he didn’t want that for anyone, not Stiles – especially not Stiles.

“Instead of resting, instead of going to treatment, she wasted her time coming up with all these techniques to help her _special_ son get through life… she tried her hardest, her very best to prepare me for growing up with ADHD once she was gone instead of –” he broke off sobbing “–instead of explaining to me, teaching me, how I was supposed to grow up without her.”

And he sobbed on to Derek’s chest holding on to his shirt tighter.  “Stiles, it’s –”

“And then she was in a hospital bed.  She was frail, and her hair had started to fall out… and she couldn’t even eat without throwing up… she had grown so small and thin and her skin had turned into this ugly yellow; it was the same yellow color that flowers take once they begin to wither away.  And yet she continued to teach me despite my protests.  Despite all my pleadings and requests for her to get some rest, she continued to push new methods of learning on to me. 

“And on the night she died, as I was helping her put on her yellow scarf around her neck, she said, _‘Stiles, when I’m gone-’_ and of course I protested and said that that would never happen that she would make it through this and that she would be cured in no time, but she just smiled at me tenderly as she lifted her hand to my cheek and continued with faint tears in her eyes.

_‘When I’m gone, I want you to be strong. I want you to take care of yourself.  I want you to remember that you are not special or retarded; you are unique, a rarity.  And having ADHD is not a set back or a problem; it’s not even a small pebble on the road, so long as you don’t let it become one.  And oh baby, I am sure that you will grow up to be a successful, honorable man that will fall in love with some one that will not just love you the way you are, but that will love you in every way imaginable, because of what you are.’_

“I told her I was scared and she said, _‘Oh, baby, you have nothing to fear.’_ And she hugged me and let me sleep by her side.  When I woke the next day, I was curled up on the guest couch across from her bed…” he stopped as more tears fell down his face and a small whine escaped from his throat.  “But her bed was empty; all the excess machines were no longer there.  All that was left was my father looking out the window hands in his pockets.  And before he told me, before he noticed that I was awake, I knew that she was gone.  That she had passed away during the night and that I had slept right through it.”

“Oh, Stiles, it’s not your – you shouldn’t feel…–Stiles, I don’t think –” Derek begin, but broke off with a sigh, words failed him yet again, when he needed them most.

Stiles didn’t respond.  He just wept and shook his head, but after a minute he whispered, “I don’t feel guilty anymore, well not about that anyway.  I figured she wouldn’t have wanted me to see her die… but, I can’t help feeling that I’ve disappointing her; that all the hopes she had for me were set too high, and that I’ll just continue to disappoint her, you know.”

“But you’re not,” Derek protested pulling Stiles away from his chest so that he could see his face.  “You’re not, Stiles.”

“Can’t help feeling that way…” Stiles trailed of biting his bottom lip before continuing “especially lately what with me lying to my father about every single thing and seeing that disappointed look on his face every time he looks at me.  It makes me think she would wear that same look on her face if she were alive and I can’t help but feel guilty, but then I shrug it off and lie again.”

Derek cupped Stiles face in a firm hold.  He wanted to get Stiles listen to what he had to say.

“Listen,” he begin and Stiles fixed his eyes on his.  “I’m not going to let you do this to yourself.  I know what you can do – I know what you’re capable of.  I’ve been there, I’ve seen you.  You are strong willed and stubborn and sometimes you’re too busy talking and that’s why you can’t listen to what people say about you, what we say about you; to what I think about you.  So listen to me just this once because if you don’t listen now, I may not repeat it again later.”

Stiles searched Derek’s face for a minute that seemed to stretch on for hours as if he were looking for something and nodded once he had founded fixing his eyes back to Derek’s.

“You, Stiles, are not a disappointment.  You never were; you never will be.  You have done great things – dangerous things that many would have turned their back on – but no, not you.  You stayed with Scott even after you found out he was a werewolf.  You did just about anything and everything that was in your power to protect him, from me, from Peter, from the hunters, from himself.  You faced Peter when he hurt Lydia; you went to where we were that night and took it upon yourself to do what you could to kill him and not because you are a psychotic killer, but because you wanted to protect the ones you loved. 

You wanted to prevent me from creating my pack, but yet you saved me from dying at the hands of the kanima.  You _protected_ my betas time after time after time; even though you didn’t consider yourself pack.  Even when you were terrified and consider giving up on us, on yourself, you bounced back to protect us, to try and save us.”

Stiles shook his head, but Derek held him firmer, tighter.  “You can’t keep thinking you are not important.  You can’t keep thinking you are not needed.  You can’t keep thinking you aren’t strong enough.  And you need to stop thinking that you are a disappointment, because you are not.  Your mother, if she were alive and if she knew what you do, she would be proud of you; she is proud of you, Stiles, I know she is.”

Derek stopped when he saw Stiles close his eyes and more tears fell down his cheek.  He rubbed his thumbs gently underneath his eyes, chasing away the tears before he spoke again.

“And your mother was right,” continued Derek and Stiles’ eyes fluttered open.  “I love you for every single thing you are, for everything that represents you and for everything I am when I’m with you.”

Stiles lips quivered before he spoke, “You love me?” he asked in a small shocked whisper, his heart beat suddenly faster.

Derek rolled his eyes in playful exasperation.  “I love you, Stiles.  You know that.”

“I hoped that you did, but you never said you did, not before this,” he said as more tears fell down his face.

Derek sighed; sometimes getting his words out to Stiles was harder than necessary.  “And here is something else I hadn’t told you and that you probably hadn’t noticed,” Stiles looked up in expectation.  “Since the first time I met you back at the forest by the lake with Scott, I knew I wanted to be with you.  I knew you were meant to be with me.  And it isn’t because of some crazy werewolf-can-spot-his-mate theory, but because you smelled of everything, I have ever hoped for, of everything that is beautiful and vital.”

Stiles lips formed a small smile.

“And I wanted you to stay away from me because I am greedy and selfish.  Because if you stayed with me, danger would be your constant companion and I didn’t want that for you.  But I kept smelling you around Scott and I kept finding myself needing you more than anything else; relaying on you more than on anyone else; trusting you more than my own shadow.  And when everyone else was willing to dessert me, I’d turn back to you.  You who didn’t want to cut my arm off so I wouldn’t die, but did everything you could to get me to wake up when I almost gave up.  You who kept me on the water for two hours, not letting go, just to keep me alive.  It’s you Stiles, I’ve only wanted you; I only need you.”

Derek’s words sunk into the darkness of the room making the room too quiet for comfort, until Stiles finally spoke.

“I can’t believe you just said all that,” said Stiles, a big smile on his lips.  “I didn’t know, you never said anything, why haven’t you said anything?  I don’t even know what your favorite color is or where you buy your super tight pants from, but you’ve just said you love me.”

“I have,” said Derek with a smile.

“And you can’t take it back because than I’d be forced to remind you of why you can’t take it back,” said Stiles reaching up to brush his lips lightly to Derek’s before nuzzling his neck.

“I never plan on it.  I love you and I will continue to love you until the day I die.  And nothing is more beautiful to me than the faint red blush that permanently covers your pale cheeks but that becomes more prominent when I kiss you, when I touch you.  Nothing is more important to me than the red blood in your veins, then the sound of your beating red heart because that’s how I know you’re alive.”

Derek couldn’t see Stiles, but he felt him smile, just a tiny one as he moved his forehead against his chin.

“So red then?” asked Stiles.

“It used to be black… but, it changed to red after seeing you in your red hoodie.  No, it changed to red the first time I met you.”

“Why?”

“Because you babbled on and I couldn’t focus on anything, but the movement of your red lips.”

“So it was love at first sight then.  Did you imprint on me?”

Derek rolled his eyes.  “This isn’t Twilight, Stiles.  And I am not a shape shifter, I’m a werewolf.  I don’t imprint.”

“Then just the regular boring love at first sight?” he pressed.

“Sleep Stiles, you need it,” responded Derek fixing the covers around Stiles.

“You’ll come with me tomorrow, won’t you?” he questioned after about fifteen minutes of silence.

“Where to?” asked Derek who already wanted to get some sleep.

“To visit my mom, I want you to come.  I want her to meet you,” said Stiles yawning against Derek’s neck.

“Of course, if you want me to, I’d love to go,” said Derek pulling Stiles closer to him.

“I want you there,” said Stiles nodding.  “I want you there.”

“Then there I will be,” replied Derek tightening his hold on Stiles.

The room became still and nothing could be heard aside from the lullaby that was the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat.

 

 

 

 


End file.
